Scientific Method
by Taril
Summary: Doumeki secures a spot at the country's finest research facility and begins on his very first research project.


**Title:** #0141  
**Rating:** G? PG? I don't know.  
**Summary:** Doumeki secures a spot at the country's finest research facility and begins on his very first research project.  
**Warnings:** AU. Potentially dark plot?  
**Notes:** This is what happened when Adayume broke my heart. Well actually, this is what happened after Adayume broke my heart and I had a discussion on genetics with my friend.

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**Please enter Subject Number.**

:::

Someone had finally reported him. He thought he'd been careful. Obviously, he was not careful enough.

They were coming. He knew it. He could feel it.

They were coming.

He skidded to a halt.

It was a dead end.

:::

**Subject Number: #0141**

**Please enter Subject data.**

:::

The Institution of Genetic and Psychological Research was the country's leading research facility. It was a soaring white building, of artistic and abstract design. The Institution was equipped with the country's most advanced technology, and staffed by the brightest minds the country produced.

Dr. Shizuka Doumeki walked at a clipped pace, his leather shoes echoing lightly down the pristine hallway. The image he presented, with his buttoned up lab coat with its row of neatly clipped pens and his personal display in his hand, was of a properly educated, well mannered researcher. And that was what he was. Graduating with top honours from one of the country's most prestigious schools, he had been hired right out of graduation to work at the country's best research facility.

The young researcher rounded a corner into a hallway that led to the Institution's newest wing. Clinical white stretched on and on, interrupted every so often by the polished metal plating that bore each room's identification.

Room 4A.

Doumeki held his identification tag to the scanner beside the door. The door soundlessly slid open, its identification plate briefly reflecting his image.

The previously silent hallway was suddenly filled with screams that sent involuntary chills down Doumeki's spine. Chaos was before his eyes, aides and guards fighting to restrain something in the midst of that commotion. Every so often, Doumeki could see a stray fist or bare foot connect with an aide or guard.

Suddenly, a whirlwind of black and white broke out of the confining cocoon of people and flew towards the door. And Doumeki.

A foot lashed out towards Doumeki's face, only to stop short of its target when the young man it belonged to, if Doumeki was going by the gangly limbs, was wrenched back by one of the guards. The young man yelled out something indiscernible as he was manhandled to the floor. The glint of a hypodermic needle caught Doumeki's eye before the aides and guards closed in again.

The screams died.

A pregnant pause, then the aides and guards cautiously moved off the prone body. The young man's eyes were closed, his breathing shallow but regular. The anesthetic had worked.

A man in a labcoat approached. "Dr. Shizuka Doumeki, I presume?"

Doumeki watched out of the corner of his eye as the young man was carried to the bed against the far wall. "Yes." One of the aides was issuing instructions to the guards.

"Dr. Benjamin Carron, Director of the Institution."

Doumeki bowed.

"I apologize. Our new subject is quite unpredictable, as you can see. This has been his second outburst since his arrival three days ago. Ah, I see you have his files with you. You know the situation already then." Dr. Carron smiled blandly. "There will be guards posted at the doors, so your safety is of no concern. It is truly impressive for a young man such as you to come into a position like this. I look forward to working with you." The Director's personal reader beeped. "I wish your study well. If you'll excuse me." Doumeki bowed again, and the Director exited the room.

Doumeki walked up to the bed in the corner of the room. The bustle of the aides contrasted with the stillness of the bed's occupant. Other than the shallow up and down of his chest, the occupant was unmoving.

Pale skin. Black hair. Subject #0141. Kimihiro Watanuki.

Doumeki addressed one of the aides. "How long will the subject stay unconscious?"

"Roughly two hours."

Doumeki had read the reports beforehand. Evidence of strange behaviours since the age of ten. Admitted for therapy once lapses in emotional control surfaced. He had been prescribed drugs for his disability. There had been no update to his medical record in the last five years. More than a week ago, a citizen reported emotional outbursts, and after discreet monitoring, the subject was admitted to the Institution for further studies.

Even after generations of selection and conditioning, kinks were still present in the system. Although rare, there were citizens with emotional instability. However, the problem could be solved through reconditioning and drug administration. The afflicted citizens were always eager to correct their problem. This was the first time someone had tried to resist corrective measures.

A part of the Institution was dedicated to the research of these disabilities and their causes. The department was set up fifty years ago, and like all the other departments the Institution housed, was well funded by the government.

The department opened with the induction of ten subjects suffering from emotional disabilities. Twenty five years after the department opened, there had been a suicide by one of the Institution's youngest subjects. For unknown reasons, the subject had strangled himself with his identification collar. The suicide was written off as a culmination of negative emotions. After that incident, the Institution changed their policy. These days, subjects wore a close fitting identification bracelet around their left wrist. There had been no more incidents after that.

The subject's face was relaxed. If he hadn't been witness to the escape attempt earlier, Doumeki would have thought the subject was merely sleeping. He recalled the angry and desperate screams.

Subject #0141 should've been brought in a long time ago.

:::

Subject #0141 was sitting on his bed, trying to take off his identification bracelet. Doumeki's entrance went unnoticed, and he silently observed the subject tug and pull at the bracelet in vain.

"#0141."

The subject started violently, caught in the act. Doumeki noted the speed at which the subject's hands returned to his sides. For someone who was unconscious just a few hours ago, the subject had recovered quite well.

"What do you want?" The subject glared at him. Doumeki didn't miss the way the subject's back pressed into the wall.

An aide entered the room with a chair for Doumeki. A moment later, she came back in with another chair.

Doumeki sat down and gestured for the aide to begin.

"How do you feel?"

Subject #0141 barked out a condescending laugh. "What, not going to ask me those questions yourself?" He glared at Doumeki's impassive face and muttered under his breath. "I feel just fine." It was spat out with a vicious sneer.

The aide continued. "Did you sleep well last night?"

The subject snorted and crossed his arms. "As well as I can in a prison." Doumeki was reminded of the cat he had studied back in school for one of his labs. The subject glared at them. "What is this, question period with the resident Corrections Officer? Aren't you going to ask me about my escape attempt today?"

The aide smiled blandly. "How did you feel about today's breakfast?"

"Disgusting." Subject #0141 rolled his eyes.

"How did you feel about today's lunch?"

Subject #0141 leapt to his feet and jabbed his index finger at the aide. "I didn't have lunch today because I was unconscious! Because of you people! The food probably tastes just as disgusting as this morning's anyway!"

"Please sit down." The aide seemed unmoved.

The subject visibly deflated and sunk back onto his bed.

"Would you like to talk about your incident today?"

Subject #0141 crossed his arms and glared at the corner of his bed.

Doumeki indicated for the aide to continue.

"Is there anything you need or anything you want to talk about?"

The angry silence stretched on.

The aide turned to Doumeki. "Is there anything else, Doctor?"

Doumeki could see the intensity with which the subject gripped his arm. "Someone will come in later to take a blood sample." He stood and addressed the aide. "Deliver the results to my office."

Subject #0141's knuckles turned white.

:::

"-emotionally unstable and prone to anger. The subject was quite uncooperative." Doumeki recounted the session.

Carron sighed. "I see. Perhaps tomorrow will be more productive." He sipped at his tea. "What do you plan to do tomorrow?"

"I plan to review his life history. The jobs he held, any friends he had, his hobbies."

The Director contemplated his cup of tea. "It truly is unfortunate, that with all our knowledge and technology, people still suffer, unable to live the life of a true citizen. Of course, they are always reintegrated successfully, but to think someone would actually resist… We can only pity him, and help him in any way possible." He placed the cup down and looked at Doumeki. "There will be a meeting on Wednesday. It will be a good chance for you to present your project and introduce yourself."

Doumeki bowed.

:::

He hated this place.

He wanted to get out.

He needed to get out.

He must get out.

:::

In the early hours of the morning, Doumeki found himself wide awake staring at his ceiling. He finally remembered. After they had finished their lab, the instructor had disposed of the cat. Doumeki suddenly recalled the instructor's words with stark clarity.

"There is no use for such crude creatures in this society except to contribute to research."

The cat whose ears he had scratched when no one else was looking.

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**AN:** Uh... I don't know. In the end, this had nothing to do with genetics. If there's anything scientifically unsound... I'm sorry I failed you, Biology major. I promise it won't be so dark later on? As to how much later, well.


End file.
